Jagged
by litromantic
Summary: After a proposal, Rory recieves a shocking realization at what she wants for her future. Literati.
1. Chapter 1

She blinked once. Twice. He was still there. Chemically altered teeth grinning at her from a knee on the ground. It seemed all too real. She had expected the dates, the sex, the "I love you"s, but never this. This was impossible. The pieces didn't fit. It was jagged.

"No."

The word escaped her lips before she could rationalize, before she could imagine the deflated look on his face. The lack of remorse backed her decision. He was not supposed to ask her, was not allowed.

"What?" His voice was like shattered glass. She winced from her own bluntness. Tried to lie to him.

"I love you, but I am not ready. I have school and the paper and my future to set."

His eyes still cried. "I want to be your future."

Winced again. Today was not her day.

"I know, and you are. I am just…I am not ready for a wedding! The planning, the money."

"Then we'll elope! Just you and me, no planning, no guests, no parents, no parties." She shook her head.

"That is not a wedding." She took a breath, and tried again. "this is enough for me right now. I love you, and I want to be with you, just not marriage. Not yet."

He looked barely rejuvenated, but nevertheless he retreated. Rory watched him, waiting for more of a response then the dull look on his face.

"Are you okay?"

He sighed. "I'm hearing you, and I believe you, but I still just got rejected." She touched his cheek, feeling only his skin.

"I didn't reject you, I am just . . . waiting."

"What's wrong with being engaged until then?" Rory knew that he had his point. She could not possibly counter it. Instead, she kissed him.

"I love you." Three words. That's all it was.

"I love you too." He mumbled at her, facing towards the ground.

"Are you okay?" she asked again.

"I just need an hour or something. I am gonna go take a drive . . . or something." Rory nodded. His lips pressed against hers again, and he left. Thoughts whirred around Rory's head.

The proposal was not right, was not his right because it was someone else's. And she could see his face.

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Rory leaned on his bare shoulder after making up. He was smiling at the world, one hand lazily playing with Rory's brown locks. She was trying not to think. Or more accurately, trying to think. Of anything. Repeating facts in her head, remembering her childhood, anything but the future. Anything. So much for that,

"When will we have kids?"

His tone was surprising and slightly tentative. Rory was taken aback. She stared at the ceiling in thought for a moment.

"Well . . . that is how it works. We are married when we are ready for kids."

He nodded in obvious agreement. Rory felt relieved, two birds with one stone.

"They are going to be beautiful kids." His smile grew, if possible, wider.

"Mmhm." They would be beautiful kids. Blonde, brunette, green eyed or brown eyed. It was flawless. She was somehow reminded of an old song lyric.

"There's no design the flaws are fine."

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That night, Rory had one of those vivid dreams that when recalled, you can remember every detail. She was in a small but neat white house with slightly tattered blinds from the unmistakable hands of innocence. Inside, it smelled like cinnamon and honey. There were several stains on the carpets and none of the furniture was leather. Most of the couch pillows has cat scratched where the cotton stuffing was poking out. Rory could feel in her whole body that this was her home. The living room was full of pictures. On the mantel, on the coffee table. The actual wall was impossible to see between picture frames. The photographs felt happy. Rory walked towards a sliding glass door covered in finger smudges, and she pulled it open. The backyard was quite large. Some of the grass was a shade of green, but most was closer to yellow. Large trees shaded plastic tables and chairs, and Rory could smell a barbeque not far from where she stood.

"Mom!"

A child called out to her. Her child. Phoebe jumped into Rory's arms. Her hair was shoulder length brown and unkempt. Rory pushed it out of Phoebe's face. She wanted to see them. The beautiful honey brown eyes she had missed so much. Her husband's eyes.

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When Rory woke up, her boyfriend had left for work. She felt strange, like there was a large blank in the center of her mind. She tried to fill it for a few moments in bed, but frustrated, gave up.

"I need to clean." She said out loud. Organizing had to help her clear her head. It would put her in order.

Rory had moved in a month ago, but there were a few boxes left in the hall closet. She crept in on hands and knees, pulling them out and searching them one by one. The first box was full of clothes Rory had forgotten about. Some had holes in them, one or two had major stains. She pushed the box over to the side after salvaging one black top. The next box had old papers and files from her years at Chilton. Rory wrinkled her nose, revisiting why she had left the worthless box alone in the first place.

"Can't I throw anything away?" She shoved the box back towards the dark of the closet. Her hand touched another box, one she had not noticed before. She pulled it out, its contents moving inside it. Her heart began to race, as she thinking it to be skeletons in her boyfriends close. But it was her writing in black marker over the top and on the sides. Save. Rory could remember having this box, but had no idea what it contained because she had not opened it in ages. When she pulled up the flaps, a distinct but undescribable feeling consumed Rory. Her heat pounded harder as she reached into the box, picking up a stack of sticky photographs. She turned one over.

"Oh." She said softly.

_"Come on, just one picture, would it kill you?"_

_"Yes."_

_Rory pouted._

_"How am I supposed to remember you?"_

_He moved closer to her, smiling. He kissed her softly. They were eating Chinese takeout on the grass in the center of town, feet away from the gazebo. The sun warmed body and hearts as Rory clung to the moment._

_"You won't have to remember, because I am going to be there to tell you." Jess looked up at her with his rarest and heaviest smile. She returned his look with adoration. Then-_

_CLICK._

_"Hey, that's cheating!"_

Rorys eyes burned as she stared at the Jess Mariano no one knew. Her Jess Mariano. He had a heart and a mind. As she stared, she remembered a less happy moment. She was with Lorelai in the jeep, Lorelai told her Jess was gone, not expected to come back.

_"I am going to be there to tell you."_

A tear slid down her cheek, and it felt real. More real than Rory had felt in a very long time. It was not anger, but pained nostalgia. Rory looked at picture after picture, some awkwardly posed and some candid truth. In every one containing her own image, her face looked brighter than she could ever remember feeling. Letters were beneath the pictures, unsent letters to Jess. Some were begging him to come back to her, some were trying to be more realistic, saying she "understood" but she loved him. Rory laughed a little. Understood. What a load of bullshit. That was what the problem was, because it wasn't right. None of it should have happened. But she was sick of being angry. The majority of the letters were furious. Their reunions had been doused with her anger. She was sick of it. She suddenly wanted it back. The sunshine, the pictures, the feeling. Rory thought about it for a few minutes, but she knew. She wanted Jess back.


	2. Chapter 2

(I spent as much time as I could, trying to make sure it wasn't rushed, tell me what you think. This is NOT the last chapter.)

A large, murky, gray building loomed in front of Rory. It was dirty and depressing, painfully squashed by the overwhelming need of numerous New Yorkers. She looked down at a piece of paper, well worn and creased from being opened and crushed so many times. It held an address and a room number, 6B. The address, 456. Just three numbers, strokes of pen on paper. But on the building-on the building it was a label, it was a sign. It said, "Jess is here." Fears suddenly appeared in her once clear mind, trying to convince her Jess was only a shadow of the past, that she was just nervous about the marriage proposal. But then she thought of the kids in the dream, that feeling. And what worthwhile thing was easy? She wanted to go home. She was ready to go home.

Rory took a deep breath, and headed towards the building. She found the call button-6B. A slightly angry voice crackled through the speaker.

"What." Rory opened up her mouth, but the reality of the situation hit her hard and the air was knocked out of her body. "Tony, is that you?" the voice crackled again. Rory breathed in heavily. Exhaled. "Hello?' Jess uncharacteristically continued to try to connect with the mysterious figure on the other end.

"Its Rory," She surprised herself with her loud volume. The other end remained silent for a minute. Then a loud buzz invited her into the building. Elevator on the left, second floor. Her nerves were tingling, her heart beating unhealthily fast. The minutes were less than seconds. Her feet did not even seem to move, she was soon at 6B. She stared at the stained and rusty gold numbers, barely feeling the wood on her knuckles and she knocked. The door swung open almost instantly, as if he had been waiting by the door. Jess looked cleaner then their last encounter-his hair was neatly cut and his face was clean. There was only a shadow of stubble over his strong jaw that showed any resemblance to the old, broken Jess. And the eyes, the honey brown eyes were exactly the same. They stared at her in a way that made her feel naked and exposed. This was happening.

Jess lowered his piercing gaze for a moment, looking at the ground. They were both lost, they both did not know. After spending so much time pretending they knew everything, here they were, lost. He looked up at her again. She took the chance and gestured into the room, asking to enter.

"Oh, oh yeah." He stepped backwards and held the door open for her. Rory clutched her purse to her shoulder and walked into a room the size of her childhood bedroom. The only reason it seemed that big, Rory noticed as she looked around the room, was because the room was empty except for boxes scattered over the dirty floors.

"Are you moving?" That was good, multiple words. A question, maybe it could even be a conversation starter. Maybe it would get them somewhere.

"Yeah, bigger apartment." Rory nodded, still not facing him. She seized in the dark apartment that smelled of mildew and alcohol. Then she just stood, unsure.

"What part of New York are you moving to, same building?" she asked awkwardly, finally turning to face him.

"Rory, what are you doing here?" Jess asked bluntly, "Last time I saw you, you were practically shoving me out of your dorm." She grimaced; she had forgotten how cruel she had acted.

"I know," she said with remorse.

"So, what do you want? What could I possibly offer you?" Rory tried to gather up the courage to tell the truth, to find the truth.

"I-my boyfriend proposed to me." Jess's face fell, but he tried to recover as quickly as possible and resorted to anger.

"So you came to rub it in my face? Couldn't just leave a message on my machine? Had to come all the way out here and really rub it in, huh?" Her last impression on him had really been awful. She shook her head in exasperation.

"I turned it down, Jess." His face melted away from anger and into pure surprise.

"Oh." Rory nodded. How did she do this? How could she push through all their barriers, was it possible to give them a future?

"Not the right ring?" He tried to get the whole answer with sarcasm.

"More like not the right," she exhaled nervously, "person." She looked at him, trying to get her eyes to tell him what she wanted, what she felt. Jess continued to act dumb-he wanted to hear it.

"Saving yourself for Nick Lachey?" Rory ignored the sarcasm, biting her lip nervously as she knew what was about to come out of them.

"More like . . . you." He watched her, his face whipped from her sudden confession. He rubbed his eyes with his hand, so much in his head at once.

"I'm sorry, you want me to propose?"

"No! No, of course not!'

"I'm a little confused." He dropped his hand to look at her again with intensity. "I came for you and you told me, you said to my face you didn't want to be with me. That you don't want to be with me."

"I was confused! You just came into my room and started throwing all these propositions at me, asking me to leave my mom and my school, and then you left! I didn't know if you were serious or you were going to change you mind!" She moved towards him, trying to convince him of her sincerity, but he backed away, still searching for useless answers.

"You SAID you didn't want to be with me. And now you're coming in her, throwing this at me."

"Jess, I've had two years to think about this, and I.." she sighed, and he looked at her with expectation, "I just know. You were right." He continued to watch, feeling it was to good to be true. It had to be a trick; having the thing he wanted more than anything laid in front of him in such a convincing disguise.

Rory felt herself start to cry, so desperate for his arms, for his heat, for his smell. The tears stung. "I want this Jess. I want you!" His face was still working it out, and after a long minute he stayed silent. Rory's heart fell ten stories. She was too late. She brought her hands to her face, trying to slow the tears, trying to hide from her mistake.

"I'll just leave." She began to turn, her eyes looking away from him, but suddenly something changed. Warmth was on her arm, pulling her back in. Arms were around her body, his warmth traveling in her body, his heart beating against hers in a rhythm. This was what bliss was, she thought to herself.

"It's always going to be us, Rory." He said quietly, and kissed her forehead. She burrowed deeper into his chest, enveloped in him. Rory hadn't felt so much ecstasy, so much at home, since her last two years of high school. And she finally knew it wasn't just another adolescent romance.


	3. Chapter 3

_Still not the last chapter- Lit fics never end, never, haha! Please do continue to tell me what you do and don't like-it helps construct my writing. Anyways, here we go, chapter three._

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Jess stood at the bus station as he had several years ago with Rory. Then he had watched her leave him empty, unsatisfied. But now, now there was no space between them. Today her arms were pressed along the line of his back, holding on to him comfortably. Her nose grazed his, as they stood-connected and complete. He felt a warm sensation as they exchanged little kisses on lips and cheeks. Her hands moved from his back to his hair, caressing it, playing with it in her hands. Jess felt as if they were in their own world, filled only with their bodies and their smiles, inches apart. The past few days were unable to be explained in words, too much emotion rose to his chest as he tried to illustrate it in language.

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The first days were simple bliss, with physical completion, conversations about novels and events, and walks to coffee stores and bookstores. On one of their silent reading sessions, they sat comfortably together, her legs intertwined with his, his hand playing with her soft brown hair. He looked at her as her brow furrowed in thought and contemplation, as her eyes moved along the printed words. Nothing had ever been this amazing to Jess, and he was afraid. When he was able to think about it, when his books could no longer hold his interest, he thought of her inevitable leave. No one could stay forever, not in the world of Jess Mariano.

"Ror," He almost whispered the word into her ear, but in their intimacy she heard him, turned her face to his, and smiled.

"Hi," She figured he was ready for a break, and she welcomed it. Rory put the book neatly away, nestled in with Jess, her head on his chest, arm resting lazily against his stomach. Jess kissed her softly on the forehead, careful not to disturb the moment.

"When are you leaving?"

Despite his efforts, the shift in mood was inevitable. Her body was suddenly stiff and he saw her face tense. "I don't know,"

His hopes dropped. In his heaven, she would have no reason to leave, she would stay here, and they would work together. It would be non-human; it would be impossible-but it would be perfection.

"Do you have to leave?" He breathed against her neck, his voice pleading with her, his hands clinging to her.

"I don't want to." She grabbed his hand on her waist with her left hand and intertwined their fingers.

"Then don't do it." He kissed the back of her neck, the back of her earlobe, he felt her tremble. Her right hand went to his head, his hair, pulling him towards her in lust. Jess moved to her cheek, then her mouth, soft but short kisses that left her hoping for more. "Don't leave," he said again as he pulled his mouth away, lightly resting his forehead against hers. Her eyes were closed and she swallowed, her hand still playing with his hair.

When she opened them, she said, "I have to. I have to go, I have school." The excuse felt final, and Jess's chest felt heavy and it hurt. He fell back onto ragged and lone couch in his apartment, positioning his body away from hers.

"Right. So, this was just a one time thing."

"Jess, no. Come on, you know that's not it."

"Then what is it Rory? You come here, and we spend all this time together like something is actually good, and now you're just leaving. Back to Hartford, away from New York. Boom, its over."

"Jess!" She seemed shocked by his sudden anger, but he did not care. He wanted her to hurt, to regret; he wanted her to stay.

"It was just some strange booty call. Or, does leaving after being with me for three days mean something else to you?"

"No, Jess, I-" She stopped for a moment, lowered her eyes, "I . . . I need to go back for a couple months, come back here when I can and," she shifted her head away from him, embarrassed, "When the semester was over, I was going to take a year off. And . . . travel. With you." She looked up, vulnerable and hopeful.

He tried to keep himself from screaming with joy; he tried to stay impenetrable, "Okay."

"Okay?"

He nodded, trying to stay nonchalant, but the small smile still snuck onto his face, "Okay."

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Now as he kissed her before she boarded the bus, it was not goodbye, it was a kiss, it was a 'See you when you get back'. He watched her retreat, and then come back again for another kiss, holding on to his face, eyes closed. She then pulled back, and smiled.

"I'll call you," He said quietly, trying not to break the delicacy of the moment.

Rory laughed, "I don't think so. **I'll** call **you**."

He smiled as she waved to him from her window, forehead pressed against the glass. Jess leaned against a pole, and watched her, knowing it wasn't over.

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As the bus drove away from New York, Rory would not let her confidence fade away with Jess. She knew there was a lot to face-boyfriends and mothers; friends and grandmothers-but this was right. It had to be right, if it felt this good, if she felt this complete. They had to know it was right.


End file.
